


When the Night Closes In

by LilyofAzra



Series: What the Darkness Brings [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Almost Drowning, Black Family-centric (Harry Potter), Family Fluff, Happy Ending, Horcruxes, Hurt/Comfort, Madness, Multi, Obsessive Behavior, Suicidal Thoughts, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:00:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25064281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilyofAzra/pseuds/LilyofAzra
Summary: Regulus had a plan. One he meant to execute a week ago. He faltered, and his estranged brother found out. All his plans promptly fall apart.
Relationships: Orion Black & Regulus Black & Sirius Black, Orion Black & Regulus Black & Sirius Black & Walburga Black, Regulus Black & Sirius Black, Sirius Black/James Potter/Lily Evans Potter
Series: What the Darkness Brings [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1794262
Comments: 52
Kudos: 243





	1. The Plan

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [In the Black](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14800721) by [izzythehutt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/izzythehutt/pseuds/izzythehutt). 



> This is a continuation of the Flavors of Magic world, but you don't have to read that to know what is going on.

A final dinner.

Regulus moved the pasta on his plate, not feeling up to eating. He took a bite anyway when he caught his mother’s eye. They couldn’t know. He smiled at her, and she resumed her story about Narcissa announcing her pregnancy. A new Malfoy for the world, and a tether to tempt Lucius to spend more time at home than elsewhere. Closing his eyes, he specifically didn’t think about the last time he saw his cousin-in-law.

“Regulus, you’ve been rather silent today.” Mother added. “Have you nothing to say about your future relative?”

“I’ll write Narcissa, my congratulations.” Regulus gave his mother a tight smile, knowing it was a lie. Would this be the last time he saw his mother, spoke with her? He couldn’t let them know. They would be safe, and the Dark Lord would become mortal. Perhaps his future cousin could grow up in a world without death looming over their head. 

“See that you do.” Mother nodded stiffly and turned to Father, “What news did Lucretia have?”

“She found a new book for her collection,” Father answered as he closed his pocket watch. Regulus privately thought that Father was obsessed with the time as Aunt Lucretia was with her books. He particularly checked that clock every other minute. Mother never commented on it either, even if she furrowed her mouth in displeasure whenever he brought it out during meals. He hadn’t before the Fight. Now, it was always the watch or being holed up in his study. 

Would Father even notice when he was gone? 

Regulus wished he carried out his plan a week ago when they were both visiting Grandfather. This lingering over dinner would only fill his mind with doubts. He knew Mother would note his absence, but he had disappeared for a few days in the past. Despite his efforts, both of his parents had pieced together what happened nearly three years ago. 'Keep it secret.' Regulus snorted. At least Mother seemed to approve of his ‘hobby.’ Father was as silent about it as ever. 

He glanced down, a drop of red against his hand. He froze, then force himself to relax. It’s just sauce. He dabbed at it. Only for it remained. A speck against the paleness of his skin. For one moment, the plate seemed to shift, and he was staring down at a crimson puddle.

“Regulus?” Mother’s crisp voice broke through his concentration. 

“My apologies, Mother.” The plate resumed its appearance, a half-eaten dish of Bucatini all’amatricinan. Nothing more, nothing less. Not blood. “I am merely tired. I’ll turn in early,” He set his fork down, appetite wholly gone. It didn’t matter if he ate. “May I be excused?”

“Very well. I am to have Druella over for tea tomorrow morning, but you may sleep in.” Mother scooped up the last of her noodles. Father nodded and opened up his pocket watch once more, brow furrowed as if it told the wrong time. 

“Thank you, Mother.” Regulus pushed his plate away and stood. He gave both a quick nod, knowing it might be the last time he said it, “G’Night Mother, Father.”

A stupid part of him wanted to say ‘goodbye’, or something equally as trite like ‘I love you’ or ‘forgive me.’ He said none of it. They couldn’t know. Perhaps he should give some excuse for being out, but they already knew that sometimes he was called in the middle of the night when he disappeared from his bed. They would assume that. Everyone would unless they asked the Dark Lord, who carried a shredded soul and no future goals, just a mantra: ‘Power and those too weak to seek it.’ 

“Good night, Regulus.” Mother echoed. 

Father studied his watch, and his expression turned stony, as if upset. Regulus hadn’t the slightest on why. Perhaps the pocket watch was broken, with the frequency Father had glanced at it. He shut it with a precise click. 

“Goodnight, my son.” Father’s voice sounded odd, almost affectionate though that was perhaps Regulus’s wishful thinking. 

Regulus nodded once again and turned away, making his way up the stairs. Past the heads of former house elves, ‘immortalized so that we may remember their noble service,’ his mother had told him and Sirius more than once. He paused when he reached the landing. Sirius’s door still shut, hadn’t been opened in over three years. His hand hovered over the handle, and he remembered all the times he ran to his brother after a bad dream, begging to sleep in his room. Sirius always let him. He wanted to go in, to find his brother there, and confess everything. In the wild hope that his brother would soothe this nightmare that he found himself in.

Sirius had left. He shouldn’t miss him like he did. Sirius was already a target for who he worked for. Regulus could not add to that, to pull his brother even more into the limelight. Despite how much he wanted his aid. 

It wouldn’t matter. Sirius didn’t care about Regulus, not anymore. He turned away into his room.

The emblem of their crest painted over the bed. It had taken him days and was his greatest artistic feat as a child. There were a few old clippings of the Dark Lord’s exploits. Something that he was expected to have. Regulus wanted to tear them from the walls, but that would be suspicious. His parents would likely go into his room once he was gone. 

He was going to go through with this. He wouldn’t allow himself to back out again. Regulus bent down and grabbed the box beneath the bed. He opened it, looking for any flaws. 

It was a masterpiece, an exquisite work of emerald and silver. And it was a fake. One that he created based on Kreacher’s description, the note neatly tucked into space a photo might take. He stood, surveying his room, the clippings he hung on the wall after he joined. The moment of the mark was a sharp point in his memory. Bellatrix’s grin as she hoisted him forward.

Was this his plan?

He couldn’t let Kreacher drink it again, not when he had spent a week nursing the elf back to health. He couldn’t put the elf through all that again. He wouldn’t hurt him. Kreacher, who always brought him hot chocolate without asking, always kept his rooms clean and never told his parents when he went out. Kreacher was not a sacrifice he was willing to make.

This was his mistake.

Joining hadn’t been what he wanted, what he even thought it would be. Not that he ever had much choice about it, to begin with. He had hoped it would just be a few riots, a few scare tactics, and some dark magic. But a man who would call himself lord over all others would not have been satisfied with such antics.

Tom Marvolo Riddle thought he was so clever. But Regulus was the one who found him out, found out what he had done to grant him his immortality. The wizard liked to brag far too much, ‘ _further than anyone else_.’ Every pureblood knew horcruxes only grant madness and decay. Murder was one thing. But to tear apart a soul. 

They were doomed with Lord Voldemort as their leader.

He tortured his own men. 

Regulus’s hand clenched around the locket. This was the right thing to do. All he could do to fix some of what he had done. 

‘ _This will be the death of you!_ ’ Sirius’s shouting still echoed in his head.

His last real conversation with his brother had ended in a screaming match on the top of the Astronomy Tower. Regulus snorted. Sirius was right after all. Regulus was a fool. A soft-headed fool. Of course, he had seen Sirius once after in the battle that broke out between the two groups. The Order of the Phoenix trying to stop the raids.

The memory still made him sick to his stomach. 

This was the least he could do. 

Even if it meant his death. He would drink the potion and destroy the one thing that made the Dark Lord immortal. If he couldn’t manage it, then he’ll ask Kreacher. Elf magic was something the Dark Lord hadn’t taken into account. And Kreacher’s magic was fueled through his ties with his ancient family, blending in seamlessly with family magic. 

Family magic.

They would know. If he died, the tapestry would show it. 

Today might be the last time they ever saw him. He couldn’t say goodbye. His parents were safer in their ignorance, in their belief that the Blacks were higher than all others. That the Blacks bowed to no one. Soon, Father would attempt to lure Sirius back, to restore the eldest as the true heir. Regulus had only ever been the spare. Proud of his ancient family, of their lineage, he could even admit that Sirius was more talented and charming than him. Sirius was always meant to become Lord Black, even if it meant changing their pureblood ways. 

Regulus was nothing more than a collection piece, both to the Dark Lord and his parents. He tried to please them, but they both still yearn for Sirius to write, return, and apologize. And Regulus, Regulus hadn’t stopped missing his brother since he was eleven, and a train took him away, to a great adventure that Regulus couldn’t experience with him. By the time Regulus had gotten to Hogwarts, Sirius had already been stolen away, sorted into a different house, with someone who was already closer to him than Regulus had ever been. 

Now they fought on two separate sides of a war. Brother against brother. Those steel grey eyes colder than Father’s had been, burning with fury in the middle of that last battle. Regulus hadn’t been able to fight. Hadn’t managed to cast a single spell. Just stood there, numb to it all. Still unable to get over the way the moonlight reflected against the ground. Bright and nearly full. A silver disc was shining in a dark puddle that no rain had brought. A small torn stuff dog next to it. One foot in the puddle, the others gone. Missing, ripped neatly by a spell. A spot of cotton darkened to an almost black in the night. 

The echo of screaming he had been so deaf to then still rang in his ears, unable to let him forget.

When the battle was done, Regulus couldn’t tell them apart.

Muggle, Muggleborn, and Pureblood. They all looked the same dead. 

He wondered if he would look that way. 

A lake full of Inferi, no doubt it would be worse. A bloated corpse to be eaten by those already dead. 

He had to do this. Even if that was his fate. Regulus had already come to terms that he would likely die in this endeavor. Kreacher would destroy the locket. He couldn’t go against an order. The locket would be destroyed and Mother, Father, and Sirius would be safe. 

His family would be safe.

Regulus would do anything to guarantee that. 

He wondered if Sirius would miss him, or just be glad that one more Death Eater was gone. Not like Regulus was even a very good Black. ‘A Black bows down to no one.’ The only ones who had truly lived by that of his generation were Andromeda and Sirius. Was Sirius happy, laughing with his friends? Enjoying some bout of peace amidst all their current chaos? 

Regulus wanted to see him.

Just see him. Know that he was going to his death, but his family would be safe and happy. To say a quiet goodbye before he went. It wouldn’t hurt anything, for him to just see his brother, to remember why he was doing this, and to wish that Sirius and his lot would win this war. Would destroy the man who had branded Regulus as a slave.

“Kreacher!” Regulus called. A small glimpse wouldn’t hurt from a distance. Wherever Sirius lived, that location was attached to the Family magic, and Kreacher would be able to take him near it even if Sirius had wards. “Please take me where Sirius lives, and don’t tell Mother or Father about this.”

“Why would Master Regulus wish to see his brother?” Kreacher appeared. The elf looked fully recovered. As if he hadn’t nearly died a few months ago. Regulus would need him to take him to the lake, and not tell his family what happened.

“I just want to check something. So take me outside the wards. Then, in an hour,” Regulus decided at random, if he hadn’t caught sight of Sirius, he shouldn’t wait. The longer he dithered, the more likely he risked the Dark Lord calling upon his Death Eaters. He needed to do this now before he gave himself room to doubt. “I’ll need you to take me somewhere else. It’s important, Kreacher.”

“As you wish,” Kreacher gave a little bow, and Regulus offered his hand.

The world swirled, and Regulus stood on a street. Kreacher nodded at him, then disappeared. He stood across from one of those apartments, numbered, of all ironies, 12. It was such a muggle place. To live on top of one another, sharing a building. But Regulus could feel the wards humming, close enough that if he stepped forward, they would recognize him. Would they block his entrance? Either way, they would alert Sirius of his presence. And Regulus didn’t want that.

How did he expect to catch sight of Sirius? Through a window. Regulus sighed and turned around, searching for the stairs. Maybe he could just stand on the street and see. As if Sirius was even home. He might be with his friends. 

This was a stupid plan.

Regulus found the stairs, disgusted by some mysterious stain in one of the corners. He didn’t want to know what that was. He couldn’t believe that Sirius would prefer to live in this muggle squalor than in Grimmauld. Exiting the building, he caught sight of a sign, Lisson Grove. London, they were still in London. Sirius hadn’t gone very far after out. He could walk to Grimmauld from here.

What had he expected?

Sirius had always liked muggle London when they were kids, always scheming on another attempt at leaving the house, but never going through with it. Not after that first time they got ice cream. Not after Father had caught them, they limited their adventures to exploring around Manor Noir, safe in the ancient wards that surround their Grandfather’s country estate. 

Regulus closed his eyes, pulling his cloak tight against the chill. Those memories were all pre-Hogwarts. Before the constant rows, Sirius and Mother had, and the way they both brought Regulus in, where there was no right answer to give, no way to please both mother and brother. 

He stared up at the apartment. Lights showed from dozens of muggles muddling about the building, unaware of the silent civil war being fought. Regulus focused on where he could still almost feel the wards, that section was dark. No light was shining down, no one standing on the metal contraption that scaled the building’s wall. Just brick and empty windows. He could almost imagine Sirius sitting on that monteristy, a cigarette between his fingers, and gazing out at the stars. What did he think when he gazed upon the winter’s constellations? When he saw Orion watching down from above, barely seen amongst the haze of light ringing the city? Did Sirius even look out at the stars anymore? Or was the sky too filled with the namesakes of their family and everything he left behind? 

Regulus shouldn’t have come. Sirius wasn’t here, and there was no telling when he would be back. Turning on his heel, he startled. 

Sirius. 

Regulus just sort of stared at his brother, who was just there. Close enough that Regulus could reach out could almost touch him. He still looked like a prince even in muggle clothes, donned entirely in black leather with an absurd number of zippers, and a wand in his hand. Ears pierced with half a dozen loops of silver. At least, Sirius was clean-shaven. Though Regulus suspected, that was because Sirius still likely couldn’t grow facial hair that was more than just an uneven fuzz. 

How did Sirius know he was here? 

In one smooth motion, Sirius broke the stillness that had settled over the two of them. A hand reached out, grabbing Regulus’s wand arm, spinning him around. His other arm was seized. Both pulled behind him, accompanied by a metallic shink. The magic on the cuffs wrapped around him, neatly containing his own. Not even a wandless spell would be able to break him out. Quick hands, and a moment later, Sirius held both Regulus’s wand and the locket.

Bugger.

“Sirius, give it back.” He couldn’t let Sirius know what he was about to do. If the Dark Lord became aware that Sirius knew about the horcrux, he would kill him. Sirius couldn’t know. Shaking his head, Sirius slid both into his leather coat pocket. 

“Quiet, _Death Eater_.” Sirius growled into his ear. Grabbing Regulus by the elbow, Sirius dragged him up the stairs, past the wards that he had not crossed before, and into his squalor. Regulus needed to leave, needed to get his wand and the fake locket back, and go. He should have gone a week ago. Go with his original plan of leaving on November 3rd, and that last bit of petty revenge when he died. He had meant to. Only, he couldn’t convince himself to go. 

At least, Kreacher will come back for him in an hour. Regulus just had to wait.

The door to the apartment slammed open on its own. Sirius stirred Regulus to a small dingy table and wooden chair. A hand pressed him down onto the chair. Regulus sat. The rope came out and bound him to the chair. Sirius sat down across from him, pulling out his wand, and dropping the locket on the table. He was entirely at his brother’s mercy. His only hope of rescue was Kreacher. 

“Well?” Sirius tapped his long fingers against the table.

Regulus stared at his brother. 

His hair was longer, and he seemed taller than the last time he saw him. He looked like Father. Elegant despite what he wore. Though Regulus mused, Sirius would seem handsome even in a sack. Regulus had gotten his wish. His brother sat across from him, looking alive, vibrant, and well. 

“How did you know where I lived? And what are you doing here?”

Regulus hadn’t an idea of what to say. He hadn’t planned on encountering his brother. Him and his stupid idea to just give a silent goodbye. How could he convince Sirius to let him go, to forget he had even come here? Regulus should have used a disillusionment charm or some other way of being hidden. Instead, he stood out on the street staring up at his brother’s home like an idiot. 

“Regulus Arcturus, answer me.” Sirius snapped, sounding exactly like Mother. 

“Happy belated birthday,” Regulus blurted out. Maybe he could take a sentimental approach?

“That was a week ago. You did not come to wish me a happy birthday. Don’t take me for a fool.” Sirius leaned back, his foot thumping against the floor, fingers tapping on the table. “I can get access to veritaserum, so you would be wise to answer my questions. Why are you here?” 

“I made a mistake.”

“I’d say,” Sirius grinned, but his eyes were cold, “you took the Dark Mark.”

Regulus bit his lip. He wanted to scream that Sirius had left, had abandoned him to this fate. Regulus hadn’t even been given a chance to protest. Though it wouldn’t have done any good. If he had, then they would be after Sirius and Regulus would be dead. He knew what the Dark Lord had wanted, a collection of the families of the sacred twenty-eight, at least those who were deemed worthy, all bearing the Dark Mark, all bowing before one to lord above all. 

“I shouldn’t have come.” Regulus managed, after cooling his temper. “I’m sorry. Just give me my wand and the locket, and I’ll be on my way.”

Sirius snorted. “You are a Death Eater.”

“Fine. Keep my wand,” relinquishing it meant he would count on Kreacher to destroy the horcrux, but Regulus could manage without it, “please, just give me the locket and let me go.”

“You would give up your wand?” Sirius looked at him like he was crazy. Regulus could acknowledge that his plan involved some madness to it and the definite possibility of his death, but it was worth it. All he had to do was go through with it. He knew he could rely on Kreacher to destroy it and keep what he had done a secret. His family would be safe.

“Please, Sirius, I shouldn’t have come. I won’t ever bother you again. Just give me the locket and forget you ever saw me.”

“You care way too much about this,” Sirius dangled the locket between his fingers, then began to swing it, “it doesn’t have any magic signature or the like. It’s just plain gaudy Slytherin jewelry, complete with a little snake.”

What could he say? What would make Sirius let him go? Sirius probably didn’t care enough about him to be swayed by their childhood. “Yes. That locket is nothing.” It was just a decoy with a note. A final snub before Regulus was likely to be dragged into the lake to drown. And the locket to be destroyed. “Please, Sirius, there is something I must do. What vows do you want?”

“What is it that you would do without a wand,” the locket rocked back and forth between, “but would require this?” 

“Please.” Regulus tried, begging wasn’t beneath him, not about this. “Please, Siri.”

Sirius stilled. His foot stopped thumping against the floor, and the locket caught in one hand. Steel grey eyes locked with his. Despite raising his mental shields, he was pretty sure that Sirius wasn’t a Legimens. Regulus could feel his heart racing. This felt like too much like he had touched upon something he had swore not to. Their childhood.

“Regulus,” Sirius spoke softly, “why did you come?” Regulus swallowed. He shouldn’t have said anything, shouldn’t have come. This was too important to be damned by his sentimentality. 

“The truth, please, and I’ll untie you.” Sirius kept his tone gentle and didn’t look away, showing a rare bout of patience.

“I hadn’t expected you to see me,” Regulus started, glancing away. Sirius could always read straight through him. There was no use hiding it and mumbled, “I came...I just wanted to say goodbye.”

The chair clattered to the ground. A hand gripped his shoulder. Glancing up, Regulus froze. Sirius was holding an opened locket. The note. 

“Don’t read it.” Regulus tried, knowing it was too late. It laid out his plan. Crystal clear.

“‘I know I’ll be dead,’” Sirius muttered, “‘say goodbye,’ ‘face death,’ ‘never see me again,’” his grip grew tighter with each phrase. “No.” The word started a whisper, accompanied by the disappearance of the rope tying Regulus to the chair. “No,” Sirius shook him, both hands on his shoulders. “No, no, no, no.” Each word louder and louder with eyes wild. “Do you understand, Reg? No.” 

“Pardon?” 

“I’m not going to let you go!” Sirius shouted.

“Why do you care!?” Regulus broke, rising to his feet, his hands still bound to his back. Sirius couldn’t care. He couldn’t, not after everything. “You abandoned me. Ignored every letter I wrote, every gift I sent. You _left_.”

“Letters.” A hand rose to his ear, twirling the earring, the other still on his shoulder. “I put up a mail directing ward. I hadn’t thought...”

“You never think.”

“I didn’t know.”

“It was for the better anyway. Look, Sirius, you didn’t want anything to do with us, with me. So just let me go-”

“No.” Arms wrapped around him. “No. Don’t you understand? You aren’t going to die. I won’t let you.” 

“He has a _horcrux_.” 

“We’ll tell the Order then.” Sirius held on tighter. 

“You can’t. There’s a spy.”

“Who?”

“I don’t _know_. Everyone wears a mask.” Regulus took an even breath. Sirius hadn’t let him go, and his wrists were still bound behind his back. “Sirius. I can do this. Just let me go.”

“Not at the cost of your life. Never that. Tell me where it is, and I’ll go.”

“I don’t want to put you at risk.” Regulus protested. Sirius laughed, loud and barking. Ignoring him, Regulus continued, “I need to do this. Let me make it right.”

“Alright, little brother.” He messed Regulus’s hair, then reached for the cuffs, tapping them with his wand. “We can go together. But first,” he handed back the locket, note safely tucked inside, “tell me what your plan was, and I’ll tell you how we prevent you from dying for it.”

“Would Master Regulus like some tea with his conversation?” asked Kreacher. A cup of tea slid in front of him. As Sirius let out a itinerary of curses, Regulus laughed. Half-surprised by the sound. For the first time in years, it felt like he had his brother back and maybe, just maybe everything would work out.

  
  



	2. The Switch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regulus and Sirius go to face the cave, and all the horrors that lay in wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a warning: this chapter is probably the darkest one in the story. It involves the torture potion, flashbacks to a raid, and the lake. This chapter contains most of the hurt.

“You have water bottles?” Sirius asked for the fifth time, digging into the bag that he made Regulus grabbed. Muggle water bottles and a basic wizarding first aid kit. Items that Regulus admittedly hadn’t thought of bringing. He planned to sacrifice his life and leave the destruction of the locket to Kreacher. “And you are sure one of us must drink. Why can’t Kreacher?”

“No. I’ll do it, Sirius. I don’t think transfiguring a rock will work. I think it has to be someone who is sentient.” And he wouldn’t put Kreacher through that again. Kreacher hadn’t done anything wrong. Had never hurt anyone. The image of the house-elf sick too weak to carry out any chores lingered in his mind. 

“I don’t like it.” Sirius added for the fifth time.

“I can go by myself-”

“No.” Letting out a breath, Sirius turned to the house-elf, “Kreacher,” gritting his teeth in a visible effort to be polite, “you are sure you can’t just teleport us directly to the island and then out again?”

“Kreacher could go, but the wards prevent Master Regulus from accompanying him.” Kreacher, of course, acted like Regulus had asked the question. After quizzing Regulus, Sirius had interrogated Kreacher, and the house-elf had refused to answer. Regulus supposed he shouldn’t have confined his agitation about his brother running away in the house-elf, and Mother’s crying had likely biased the elf against Sirius. 

“You are sure about this? I could contact James, he’s no spy, and having an extra person-”

“No.” Regulus ignored the flare of jealousy. A part of him still blamed Potter for stealing Sirius away, for being a better brother than Regulus ever could. He didn’t want that face to be the last he saw if this ended poorly. “I don’t want to wait. We’ve delayed long enough as it is.”

“Together?” Sirius raised an elbow towards him. Regulus grabbed it, feeling that he was clinging to a lifeline as if with Sirius there, he would manage to live through this endeavor he set out for himself. As long as Sirius agreed with the plan, as long as Sirius lived.

“Kreacher.” Regulus offered his hand. “We’re ready. If you don’t want to go-”

“Kreacher knows.” A small hand grasped his. “Kreacher will go.”

“You remember your orders if-”

“Kreacher will see this through, as Master Regulus orders.” The house-elf grabbed Sirius’s robes, wrinkling his nose. A loud crack. The world turned and resounded with the clash of waves and the pungent scent of salt and sea—a bitter cold wind wrapped around them, bringing them into the pitch-black entrance. 

“This the stone?” Sirius asked, lighting his wand, stepping towards it. Kreacher nodded, with one quick motion, he cut his palm and placed it on the stone.

“Sirius.” Regulus scolded. 

“You expect me to watch you drink poison. I can at least spare you this.” He grinned as he stepped through into the cavern. 

In the distance, an island glowed green, and the draught of despair awaited. The lake seemed far too still, reflecting the light of their wands like a black mirror. Regulus swallowed. Inferi, at least that’s what his best guess was from Kreacher’s description, were just under the surface. They were weak against fire. This should be fine. 

“The boat, Kreacher.” The house-elf nodded and led the way. Regulus had already decided he would order Kreacher to retreat if things became bad. A small ivory boat rose from the lake. Regulus stepped onto it, immediately sitting once it started rocking. Then deliberating for a moment, he finally said, “Meet us on the island, Kreacher, and don’t touch the water.”

“Kreacher knows.” The old elf’s face looked worn, and Regulus felt a fluttering of guilt for making him come back to this place. He needed help. If fiendfyre couldn’t destroy the locket, then he needed to get it away immediately and not risk losing it to the lake of Inferi. 

Expectantly, he looked up at Sirius, who muttered a spell and tossed the Lumos into the ceiling, lighting the whole cave. Then with a grin, Sirius morphed. A black dog stood before him—a grim. 

‘I knew it!’ Regulus thought, opening his mouth before closing it. He hadn’t believed that a silencing charm had gone astray, and Sirius couldn’t speak for a month. Not for one moment. 

After a great shake, Sirius jumped onto the boat, causing them to rock in the waves. Regulus froze. Glancing out, but the lake remained still. With one lick to his check, the dog settled down on Regulus’s lap. A moment later, the boat started to move. He was holding his wand high, as its light played across the water. A pale figure lurked beneath the surface, the rags it wore spread in the water like forgotten wings. Regulus’s hand clenched in Sirius’s fur.

Who knew how many Inferi there were?

Could they do this? If they didn’t, then the Dark Lord would never be stopped. He’ll just come back. Regulus had to see this through, for the protection of his family and everyone else. 

The boat bounced against the rocks of the small island. Sirius jumped off shifting forms in mid-jump, an impressive bit of maneuvering, and turn to offer Regulus his hand. Regulus took it. Behind them, glowing softly was the emerald potion and the Horcrux within. Kreacher stood next to, his skin an unusual paleness highlighted with green. 

“I can drink it, Reg.” Sirius eyes the potion.

“No,” Regulus stepped up to the pedestal and snatched the crystal goblet, “I am a poor duelist, and we both know it. If those things attack, you’re better equipped. Let me drink this,” then he turned to the house-elf, “Kreacher, make me drink this if you must until we’re able to make the switch, please.” Then he dipped the goblet in the basin, filling it with the emerald potion. He lifted the glass to his brother, “Cheers.”

He drained the glass. 

Fire burned his throat, making his throat dry and making him feel like he drank a mouthful of sand. His vision flickered for a moment. Another stood in front of him. Someone he hadn’t thought of, who he didn’t want to think of. Taller and wearing Slytherin robes.

‘You think I want anything to do with you,’ his voice a cold sneer. ‘That I ever cared about you. I’ve been given an opportunity and no longer need you.’

“No.” Regulus protested weakly. He hated this, hated everything to do with that person. All those moments together. It hadn’t meant anything. In a fit of effort, Regulus dunk the glass into the basin, drained it, and then without halting, did it again.

‘Go marry to the betterment of your blood. We may serve a common master, but that’s all that connects us.’ He turned away, before glancing back. ‘And remember all those experimental potions you help me develop. It would be unwise to cross me.’

“No,” Regulus muttered. Drink, he had to drink. He must drink. A potion, and wondered if it was he and not the Dark Lord that had brewed it. His hands shook as he dipped the cup back in, green glowing. Regulus titled the glass back and swallowed. He swayed an arm wrapped around him, guiding him down. Or up, dark hair, pale eyes. Instead of Sirius standing next to him was a shorter figure with long black hair. It wasn’t her. She couldn’t be here. 

‘And when we find that blood traitor brother of yours,’ Bella dragged him up, pulling him out of his aunts and uncle’s home. ‘If he will not join us, we will show him what the darkest of arts is truly capable of.’

Sirius. He had to warn him. “Sirius.”

“Drink, Master Regulus.” Kreacher was suddenly in front of him. Why was he here? Where did Bella go? His throat felt dry, and he was so thirsty.

“No, I’ll drink it.” Sirius’s voice rumbled above him. No, that wasn't right. Sirius mustn't drink. Regulus grabbed the glass with shaking hands and drained it. Everything flickered once more. It was dark, and he was so thirsty.

The black lake looked like blood—a puddle reflecting a full moon. Bella stood beside him, kicking the back of his knees, so he knelt. Regulus had to take the mark, had to protect Sirius. Sirius, who was still heir, who couldn’t be made to follow, not like Regulus. 

‘Heir Black, I looked forward to your acquaintance.’ The words were a hiss and the memory of that power wrapped around him, insidious and beckoning him to raise his left arm. ‘Are you ready to swear service?’

“No. No. I don’t want-” A crystal chalice swirled with green liquid. He was thirsty, and everything was falling around him. Everything hurt, and his insides were starting to burn. 

“That’s it.” Bella hissed, no. It wasn’t her. Sirius. He swiped the chalice and drained it. His brother. What was his brother doing here? He couldn’t be here. Not when Regulus looked around wildly. A cave.

“You mustn’t. Master Sirius, you must not.” Kreacher was there, lightly hitting Sirius. “You must save Master Regulus.”

“Sirius.” Regulus clung to his brother, fisting his hands in the muggle clothes he wore. “Please. Please.” His cheeks felt wet, and his throat was dry. “I’m so thirsty.”

“I can’t.” Sirius hiccuped. The glass fell from his grasp, only to stop in mid-air. His arms wrapped tighter around Regulus, sliding down to sit next to him, “I can’t do this to you.”

“I must,” it was important. Why was it? What was it? It was hard to think. “Drink.” 

“Master Regulus,” the glass was held before him. Kreacher watched him with watery eyes. 

“Thank you, Kreacher.” Kreacher burst out into sobs. Regulus took it, draining the contents. Feeling the potion burned and the vision flowed back. Crimson eyes were watching him with glee, a wand against his left arm. The phantom echo of pain as his left wrist burned as he was branded. Regulus screamed. It hurt. Then the world shifted.

A puddle of blood. The echoing of screams. A stuffed bear, missing a limb, and a button eye hanging loose. And next to it-

“I’m sorry.” Regulus pleaded, seizing the person next to him. “I hadn’t.” He hadn’t moved. He hadn’t done anything. And that image. Everything within him burned, but not nearly as much as that image, “Please. It’s my fault. I couldn’t-”

“Reggie.” He was held tight, and some else was crying. Someone tugged on his hand. A house-elf, no Kreacher, holding a crystal full of an emerald potion.

“No,” Regulus moaned. Everything hurt. 

“You must drink.” Kreacher offered the potion, but his face was lined with tears. Regulus knew it to be true. There was something important. Something he needed to do. To repent, to stop all of this. Regulus attempted to grab the glass, but his hands were shaking as if he were to fall apart. Kreacher stepped forward and brought it to his lips, tilting the liquid back.

Regulus swallowed. 

His body burned, like a million lashes striking him all at once. The toy bear appeared once more, falling on the ground. Next to a gathering puddle full of moonlight. And before it.

“No.” He muttered the words he hadn’t then. “Don’t.” A red ribbon fluttered down, blonde curls bouncing free, and brown eyes shifting from horror to empty. Dead. “No!” His throat burned.

“Reg.” Sirius was there. His face swimming before him, blocking out the vision of the girl. Only, he was coated in blood. A red line ran across his neck, and Bella crackled in the background. 

‘Look what you’ve done to me.’ His brother accused him. Besides him stood a child. Golden curls, holding a white and red bear, missing a limb. Her light voice echoed, “to us.”

“No. Forgive me. Please.” His throat was dry, and he was so thirsty. Everything hurt. 

A crystal chalice full of emerald wine swirled in front of him. His punishment. It was too much, too much. Regulus turned away. Kreacher sobbed, bringing the potion to his lips and pouring the liquid into Regulus’s mouth. 

Fire beat in his chest, stealing the strength from his limbs, and around him. The image of the girl was joined by others, Sirius, him, Mother, Father, Kreacher. All had blank eyes, glazing down at him. Their accusations were echoing in his ears. A disappoint a disgrace: a child’s eyes, and the word ‘murder’. 

“It’s not real.” Sirius shifted, suddenly next to him, holding him. “Reg, it isn’t real.” His muggle clothes were soaked and crimson, blood falling like tears from his eyes. 

“Please,” Regulus clutched at his brother. Was he an illusion as well? Pain keeping pace with his heartbeat, and the knowledge of everything he’d done wrong. “Make it stop.” Living wasn’t worth this pain. Not if his family was already gone, doomed by his actions. His throat was so dry, and he was so thirsty, “Kill me.”

“No!” He was pulled tighter against him. Beneath the pulsing of pain and the increasing accusations of ‘disgrace’, ‘disappointment’, ‘tool’, he could barely make out the rest of what Sirius said, “No. Kreacher, let me drink the rest of the potion.’

“Master Sirius must not.” Kreacher dodged a reaching hand. “Drink this,” An emerald potion flowed into his mouth. 

Pure agony washed over him. A thousand blades. Regulus screamed. His throat was aching, tearing with the sound. Distant voices were speaking, but the words couldn’t reach him. It was all too much. Too much pain. Regulus collapsed.

* * *

“Reg. Reggie.” Someone was calling his name. 

His throat was impossibly dry, and he didn’t want to wake. 

“Reg, please wake up. If it’ll get you up. I promise I’ll talk to our parents again. Just, please, don’t be dead.”

With great effort, Regulus opened his eyes. With a laugh borderline hysterical, he was pulled into a tight embrace. Everything still hurt, and he was thirsty as if he hadn’t anything to drink in days lost in a desert. 

“You must be thirsty,” Sirius, was it Sirius?, laid him against a pedestal. Then he reached into a bag that Regulus forgot he had. A bottle of water was placed at his lips, titled back. Regulus drank. Even after the bottle was drained, his throat still felt dry. But he was starting to remember why they were here.

“The locket?”

“Nasty piece of work, isn’t it?” Sirius held it out. It looked almost exactly like the one Regulus had made, though some minor swirls of silver were missing. Though Sirius was right, at this proximity, and if he concentrated, Regulus could feel magic radiating from it. Who had died for it? Regulus’s stomach rolled. The specter of the girl existed behind his eyes. Unable to control it, his stomach protested, and he rapidly leaned away from Sirius. 

“Master Regulus.” Small arms wrapped around him. Kreacher looked up at him. “Kreacher tried to destroy it while,” the elf paused then added, “Master Sirius woke you. But nothing worked.”

“Which leaves us with Fiendfyre,” Sirius added, casting a quick scourgify and not saying a word. “You are lucky that our dear mother saw fit to teach it to me.”

“She did not.” Regulus weakly protested. He would have heard of it if she-

“Oh. She did.” There was an odd look in Sirius’s eyes. One Regulus had never noticed before. Horrifyingly, it reminded him of Bella. “For once, I find myself inclined to thank her. That spell ought to destroy this.”

Sirius then bent down and grabbed a pebble, his wand flick in his other hand. It grew in length until it stretched almost to the shore. “And here would be the best place to use it. Not much besides us and it to burn.”

“Would Fiendfyre…” Regulus panted, struggling with his words, “take the Inferi?” Regulus eyed the water nervously. There were flickers of waves. And flashes of pale white flesh. 

“If they go above the water.” Sirius followed his glance, a frown marring his face, “though, that lake may be enchanted against any type of flames. And I rather not chance it. Let’s be quick about this.” 

Regulus moved to stand up, swaying a moment into Sirius.

“Master Regulus,” Kreacher protested, tugging at his robes. 

“Just stay seated, Reg,” Sirius scolded but ended up supporting him more than anything else. 

“I can hold it while you cast.” Regulus placed both hands on the stone hook, angling it up and away from them. It shook violently in his grasp, and his legs felt like he might fold under him. He would see this through, would destroy this horcrux. Voldemort would regret how he treated Kreacher, who had helped him in good faith. 

A stream of fire burst from the wand. With one precise flick, it transformed into a small dragon of flame. With a mighty scream, it attacked the necklace. A burst of black smoke and a shock wave of force threw him backward. As he flew in the air, he saw the fire divide into several dragons. Fire danced through the smoke like flares of lightning till not even smoke remained. Just pure burning fire. 

A burnt-out husk of the jewelry fell. And the flames turned back towards them. Sirius, mid-air, managed to dissipate the dragons.

Regulus was falling.

Beneath him, the water boiled in turmoil.

“Kreacher,” Regulus shouted, his throat still so dry, “save Sirius.” Then he clashed against the water. It felt like hitting ice. Cold wrapped around him, securing him tight. Only for Regulus realized that those were hands that clasp his ankles, pulling him down. Regulus didn’t have the strength even to fight them, to reach for his wand. He let them pull him down, turning his focus towards Sirius. His brother had managed to cast a bubblehead charm and sent out flashes of spells at the Inferi.

If there was one person who could face a hundred Inferi and come out an unlikely victor, it was Sirius.

His brother at least would live.

Only Sirius was turning to him, not even bothering to try and escape. A severing spell cut off the arms of those who held him, and Regulus was pulled towards his brother. Another Inferi launched out, colliding with him, to bring him down once more. Then he felt teeth tear into his calf. His mouth opened in a scream, inhaling water before he could stop. 

With a great show of force, his brother cast what had to be a blasting charm, flicking his wand, and Regulus was forced through the water till Sirius wrapped an arm around him and launched them to the surface.

Regulus let out a sputtering cough, unable to even find the strength to tread water. Sirius had to deal with his dead weight, on top of defending them. 

Kreacher appeared next to them in a thundering crack, moving to Regulus’ other side and helping them swim towards the distant shore. Sirius was firing spells beneath the turmoil of the black lake. They were in the middle of the black lake.

“It’s too far.” Regulus choked out, voice weak.

Sirius didn’t even respond, too busy attempting to shield them and swim at the same time. 

“Sirius, it’s too far.” Regulus struggled against the arm, holding him but barely even managed to bring his arms up. “We aren’t going to make it. Let me go.”

“Never.” Sirius snarled at him, grey eyes sparking with silver fire. Letting out a stream of curses, he fired more spells. The water boiled in turmoil, white caps, or white hands, Regulus couldn’t tell. All the while, Kreacher steadily swam at his side, preventing Regulus from sinking under once more.

They made it further than he thought.

Another body collided with his. Then another and another. Women, children, and men all bring him down, deeper and further into the dark. Nails were tearing into his flesh, into his skin, burning, burning. A bite on his shoulder and Regulus screamed once more. Bubbles fleeing his mouth, only to be replaced by water.

He tried to breathe and only inhaled more water. His chest burned. In the dim light, he could make out his brother thrashing, Inferi finally managing to catch him as well. Kreacher managed to throw them back. Till he was pulled down so far, he could only see darkness. Pitch black. Not a star in sight.

It hurt.

Everything hurt and he was so cold. Colder than he had ever been before. But at least, he wasn’t thirsty anymore.

Regulus closed his eyes.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be from Orion's POV! Along with several other characters. Also, I'm thinking about having a future pairing of Severus Snape and Regulus. Does anyone have an opinion of it? It probably won't be a major focus on in this story.


	3. The Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Orion wakes to a warning. His children in mortal danger. A race against time to save them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm having it where Dorea Potter nee Black and Charles Potter are James's parents.

Orion’s finger glazed over his watch. The familiar touch of magic rose from it. Pressing down on the diamonds that formed his constellation, contrasting sharply with the metal that swirled between dark blue, purple, and black, an accurate mimic of the night sky, he clicked it open. A glittering field of starlight surrounded the outside edge. Half a dozen constellations and a few symbols crafted by pinpricks of light took the place of numbers. In the center, two constellations, Leo and Canis Major took the place of minute and hour hands, small spheres onto themselves. The former was a shifting background of dark grey, purple, with sparks of white contrasted with Leo. Colors a constant swirl, mimicking his youngest son’s emotions. 

By his best guess, Regulus was an odd mix of anxiety and determination about something. As long as his constellation pointed towards Orion’s, he would wait. 

“Whatever is the matter with Regulus?” Walburga brushed her hair, sitting in her dressing gown. 

“I do not know.” Orion closed the watch once again, noting that Sirius hadn’t moved. The sphere pointed to Dorea’s boy, which Orion admitted in a fit of pique he used Gemini to represent. 

Walburga settled next to him on the bed, attempting to glance at his watch, Orion closed it. Turning to her, an eyebrow raised.

“And the other?”

“Hmm?” Orion tucked the watch in his breast pocket, next to his silken handkerchief. “I do not know what you mean, madame.” 

“My meaning is clear.” Walburga huffed. For a moment, Orion thought she might attempt to snatch the watch for herself. It would not open even if she did. “The other one. How is he?”

“I told you my knowledge of our son. Unless there is-”

“The other is still my child as well as yours.” Walburga’s gaze was trained on the watch. Orion was half tempted to pull it out of his pocket and wave it in front of her face. An acquaintance of his swore that a properly enchanted watch could hypnotize a person. Though he doubted it would have any impact at all on Burgie. 

“Never mind,” Burgie’s lips turned up. 

“Oh,” Orion met her gaze. Her steel eyes sparkled with mischief. A trait that he last saw reflected in his eldest. He could not deny that the watch was a poor substitute for seeing how Sirius was doing in person. Orion had hoped the boy would see sense and come home. Even if Dorea frequently wrote of how he was doing, her letters had lessened recently as she was feeling under the weather. 

“Yes. He must be well if you are unconcerned.” A full self-satisfied smirk covered her face, as she rose, placing her robe next to the chair and climbing into her side of the bed. 

“Burgie,” Orion leaned back against a down pillow, fingers tracing lightly over the face of his watch, considering. “His birthday was a week ago.”

“I am aware,” She paused, a frown marring her face, “and he is not home.” Burgie turned away from him. As if he were to be blamed. He was not the one who fought with the boy to the point he slunk off in the middle of the night like a thief. At the time, he thought Sirius would have a cooler temper and return for Yule. He did not. Though it was his first NEWT level year, perhaps he was studying, and Sirius had never been a great writer of letters. They barely received one from him when he was a first-year. Especially after the debacle that had been his sorting, the boy became even more willful and sullen. Still, he stayed away from that summer as well. Dorea wrote to him immediately, asking what it was Orion wanted to do. Given Walburga’s temperament at the time, he hesitated. It was just one summer. 

“I am not the one who-”

“Do not dare finish that sentence Orion Arcturus!” Walburga launched up, dark hair whirling around her face, eyes glinting with anger. “I know very well what I have done. You swore that you would bring him home. You gave him his full year of freedom to ‘work out his wilderness.’”

“I-” But Burgie was a rant and cut him off. 

“I doubt he even read the letter you had Regulus delivered to him. That stubborn child. He likely thinks he is free to do as he pleases. Are you even aware of the rumors of what he gets up to? Lucretia mentions her nephews and their set. She says he’s the worst of the lot, taking constant risks. I’ve half a mind to fetch him myself and let you lock them both in a tower.”

“The idea has merit.” He could probably manage it if he took control of Manor Noir’s wards. Any of Cyngus’s properties were out entirely. He would not permit either of his children to stay there. Not after what happened during that Yule three years ago. The memory of the watch burning hot, and finding that Regulus’s location was unknown. Only to return, silent and pale. Orion never told Walburga about the brand he found on their youngest’s arm, nor that the magic embedded in it was unlike anything he had ever seen. A cold fury burned in him, waiting for a chance to strike out at the man who dared mark his child. 

“If I can not lure him back by Yule, then you can take the more direct route.” Orion conceded. Burgie was a far better duelist then he was. He doubted Sirius could easily fend off his mother, not if they surprised him. 

“You will use that watch of yours to aid me?” Burgie paused, forming her own plans. His wife had such little faith in him.

“If you swear not to row so tremendously with him. Preferable no shouting or yelling at all. Kindness would make a much better weapon for keeping him.” Orion brushed back one of her curls that had fallen into her face. “Best not to even mention them to him.”

“As long as he refrains from dressing like a,” Burgie paused as if searching for a word that would adequately describe her indignation, “a trollop, I will manage. In turn, you must speak to Regulus in the morning, best to nip this sort of mood in the bud.”

“Very well. Good night, Brugie,” Orion pulled up his blankets, and a hand was hovering over his watch. Knowing it would wake him if anything were to happen. 

“Good night, Orion.” With a snap of her fingers, the bedroom lights turned off. 

* * *

Heat, blazing hot, and vibrating. Orion shot awake, pulling the watch out of his breast pocket. Both constellations swirled white, laced with an angry red, and one a horrid pale shade of green. What had his sons decided to do? If he found out the two had managed to get themselves in a duel with the other due to political sentiments, he would be most displeased. He checked their location. Both pointed to the void. 

No.

Lost. Location unknown. Void. 

He could not go through this again. Orion flung the bed covers off and tapped his wand to the watch. After the last time, Orion had revised some of the tracking spells on the pair of them. A drop of blood, a first tooth lost, a strand of hair, a bit of their magic. He would never lose them again. 

A map of the country appeared but lacked the glowing dots that would indicate his children. Unplottable wards. He made a counterclockwise motion with his wand. There, two dots along the seaside. Pinching the edges of the map, Orion tapped his wand, and a model of the location appeared. Too risky to apparate, not if he wanted directly. He would need a broom for the rest of the way. Grabbing his cloak, he stepped out of the rooms and summoned Regulus’s broom. 

With a flick of his wand, his stomach twisted, and he heard the faint call of his name. Perhaps he should have woken Walburga. 

The world compressed. 

He stood on the corner of a muggle seaside town. One he and Lucretia had visited during a more foolish youth. He studied the map once more, not far. Casting disillusionment on himself, he flew. When was the last time he traveled by broomstick?

Regulus’s was much faster than he expected. Orion pushed it to travel further, flying underneath a waning gibbous, enough light to make out the entrance of a cave. Conferring with the map, he shot straight for it. While keeping hold of the broom, he jumped, landing softly in a cave. His heart pounded in his ears. He checked the watch. The brightness of the star of Regulus was fainter. 

He wouldn’t be too late. 

Holding his wand out for light, he found the back of the cave. He could feel the wards radiating from it, strong, but with the feel of something, not even a year old. The magic was not fully settled. Easy to manipulate. He could shatter the whole thing. Just a few well placed runes, but there was likely to be several traps associated with collapsing it. His children were on the other side of those wards.

Casting a glow light, he ran ward diagnostic charms. It would be much easier to convince the wards to let him in or to find a small gap and sneak in. Studying the makeup of the wards, he glanced at the holder stone.

Beyond the layers of intrinsic barriers, the key was the simplest blood ward he had ever seen. Any blood of a wizard or witch would do. His watch burned in his pocket. He didn’t have time to dither, no matter how reluctant he was to let his blood feed into such wards. The stone shone in the light, a dark glint already smeared on it. Orion cut his thumb.

“Padfoot!”

He swirled on his foot, raising his wand to see who it was. Dorea’s son. Beside him, sat a redhead witch. Someone who looked vaguely familiar, but Orion didn’t have time to place them. He wasn’t even sure he was Potter. His watch burned hot in his pocket. They were running out of time. As he pressed his thumb against the rock, the wall vanished. Orion headed into the entrance, followed by Sirius’s friends. Eerie darkness, a faint green from an island in the distance. With a flick of his wand, he cast a powered lumos, tossing the light to pierce through the darkness. 

Where were they?

The black lack was in turmoil. Flashes of white flesh, the water was lapping back and forth, and a pale hand reached for the surface to sink.

Lead sank in his stomach.

“Sirius,” a hand landed on his shoulder, “mate, what’s going on?”

“The lake.” Orion didn’t turn to Sirius’s friend. How was he going to get them out? Diving in after them was foolish. Not when he didn’t know what was beneath the surface. 

“James.” The girl stepped towards the lake and picked up a stone. She tossed it in. A corpus leaped out, directly towards the rock. 

Inferi.

“You’re not Sirius,” the boy let go of his shoulder. 

“No,” Orion drawled. A plan was forming in his mind.

“He’s in the lake,” his face paled, and whispered, “why did he go off without me?” Eyes trained on the lake. The rapid movement was halting, stilling. As if the Inferi were successful in their endeavor. 

“Can the two of you cast mobilicorpus?” They must have dragged Sirius and Regulus into the lake. He couldn’t be too late. What were Inferi weak to?

“Yes.” The girl answered. “But I don’t see them.”

“It’s about intent,” Orion paused. He resisted the urge to check his watch, as it flashed between feeling burning hot and ice cold. He couldn’t think about what that meant. “Focus on Sirius. I’ll grab Regulus.” 

“James!” She raised her wand, nodding at Orion. 

“Now.” Orion was powering the spell nonverbally as he flicked his wand. It felt like pulling a stone buried in mud. He funneled more strength in the spell. Slowly far too slowly, one body rose from the lake, eerily pale in the light, a small creature clinging to it, while the dead held its limb. Sirius. Orion focused, not faltering, he stretched his magic and pulled. A dozen bodies rose, the Inferi clung to Regulus like spiders to their prey, scurrying over him, latching on to him. There were too many.

“Potter, can you grab Regulus?” A spell was coming into mind, but he couldn’t do both. “I’ll manage the Inferi.” 

“Yeah,” another pull, magic wrapping near his own. Orion carefully relinquished his hold.

Focusing his intent, he cast the one spell that might save them and muttered, ‘Protego Diabolica.’ Brilliant blue flames spread out encircling them. The darkness of the water seemed to swallow the light instead of reflecting it. 

“That spell…” Potter glanced at his eyes wide.

“The fire won’t burn them.” 

“Right,” the boy nodded. Orion launched a bout of the flames out from the circle. The cling Inferi disintegrated to ashes. With a synchronized flick of the pair’s wands, his sons were pulled through the ring of flames, to be set down on the cold ground. 

Orion pulled the circle in tight, flames surrounding them, and anchored the spell for a few minutes. Confident that the Inferi wouldn’t make it through. The watch kept oscillating between hot and cold. His sons were too pale, lips and fingertips tinged blue. He stepped towards them.

“Rennervate,” Potter cast on Sirius, who immediately spat out a mouthful of water. Expression dazed. Alive. Despite wanting to study his eldest, Orion focused on Regulus, watching as the girl cast the same spell. 

Nothing happened.

His watch was cold in his pocket.

Orion pulled it out. Fingers were trembling as he clicked the latch. The constellation of Leo was gone.

No.

The watch fell from his fingers, caught by the chain, dangling at his side. Orion sank to his knees next to Regulus. Too still. It had to be a trick. He reached for his hand. Cold, so cold. This wasn’t real. He couldn’t make sense of it. All the effort he put in keeping track of his sons and reassuring himself of their safety, couldn’t lead to this result. The flames around them grew. Ashes floated down.

“Reggie,” Sirius croaked, half-crawling to his brother, grasping the other hand. 

The girl placed two fingers on Regulus’s neck. Then the girl shifted and placed both in the center of his chest. Then she pushed. Over and over again. She paused for a moment. Cursed. Then he titled his head, leaned down and breathed. 

The process repeated.

“What are you doing to Master Regulus?” The small being raised a hand towards the girl. It took Orion far longer than he would like to admit to realize that it was Kreacher.

“Stop, Kreacher.” Sirius’s voice sounded raspy. 

“You were supposed to save him.” The elf turned his attention on his eldest, small fist lightly hitting against Sirius. 

Orion couldn’t focus. 

His gaze pinned on his youngest. Terrified that if he looked away, Regulus would just disappear. The girl stopped again—two fingers on his throat. The barest of movement as his chest rose on his own. Then Regulus started coughing.

“Anapeo.” The girl whispered. 

Orion snatched as his watch. The face still opened. The constellation of Leo was there. The star Regulus flickered faintly. Alive. How? How had she done this? Brought back his youngest from the grasp of death. 

“Thank Merlin,” Sirius whispered before rolling onto his back, staring blankly up.

“Mudblood saved Master Regulus,” Kreacher muttered, eyes watching. 

“CPR,” she nodded to the house-elf, then turned to Potter, “we need to get him to a Healer.” 

“No.” Sirius reached out for his friend, grabbing Potter’s pants. His hand was shaking, and his whole body shivered. This was the first time he had seen him this close in three years. Three years and they met in a cursed cave surrounded by the dead. 

Sirius was right there. 

His prodigal son, all he had to do was reach out. His eyes trailed over his appearance. Pale. Fingertips tinged with blue, clothing torn, half a dozen of half-healed scratches, and bite marks littered his skin. Orion gaze flickered between the two brothers. Regulus almost looked worse. The damp water puddled around them was tinged pink. How much blood had they shed? Fury danced in the back of his mind. Rage that those things had dared to harm both Regulus and Sirius to this extent. His own flesh and blood. Torn and bloodied.

The flames around them danced higher, lashing out.

This fire wouldn’t touch or hurt his children, but it wouldn’t warm them either. Orion cast a warm charm over both of them, unable to take how badly Sirius was shivering. He was so tempted to boil that lake, to incinerate every single Inferi. To hunt down and show real suffering to whoever had laid this trap. 

“Dad?” Sirius’s eyes were dazed, not properly focused. His face tinged an odd mix of green and blue, swaying as he sat up. 

“Sirius.” Orion’s hand curled around his wand, resisting the temptation to reach out for the boy. To pull him closer. His son scooted slightly away from him, eyes wide. 

“We need to take both of you to St. Mungos,” Potter spoke, dissipating a piece of parchment. Then conjured a cloak and bundled his eldest in it. “Inferi are venomous. And apparently, the two of you ingested an ‘unknown potion.’”

Orion stilled. Potions were more of Walburga’s strength than his own. Walburga, who may be asleep, or wide awake and waiting for some word. He checked his watch once more, aware that Sirius was still studying him. The metal no longer felt as hot, just warm. Despite the sickly green that swirled around their constellations, they weren’t in as dire straits. His gaze flickered back to watching Regulus breathe, labored, and stuttering. He wanted to gather both of them up, the way he had when they were children, and take them home.

“Not St. Mungos.” Sirius wheezed, “Ted’s a healer.” He broke out into a cough. It sounded wet and rattling. Orion’s fingers twitched. He should have learned more healing arts when Sirius was born. He should have prevented this from happening. Destroy those who dare harm either of them. Sirius glanced at Orion and hesitated, “he’s Andi’s husband.” Andromeda’s muggleborn husband was a healer, which meant Orion might be able to use family magic to command their aid, in return for protection. 

“Kreacher can get there.” The house-elf muttered. “Outside of wards. Can’t within.” 

“Right.” Sirius hummed, and attempted to rise, only to collapse onto Potter. Who let out a mighty sigh, and pulled Sirius up, carrying him against his side. Orion watched them for a moment, as they shuffled together towards the entrance of the cave. 

Orion turned to handle the fire. On the other side of the flames, dozens of Inferi stood just feet away. Blank eyes stared back at him. They were all twisted in shape, hair matted to such a degree, he couldn’t even tell if they were once a man, woman, or child. Someone had made these abominations. Designed and instructed them, laid them in a trap, just to harm his children. To drown them. 

They should all burn.

Brilliant blue flames danced at his call, lashing out and scouring the Inferi that stood on the banks. It wasn’t enough.

He needed to destroy them all. Boil the lake, scorch the island, tear down every aspect of this place. He would find him. The one who set this. Drown him in his own blood, making him feel every hurt that had been inflicted on his children a thousandfold, wrapped him in nightmares that he would never escape.

“Mr. Black!” Bright light flared, to show a woman in front of him and his flames. The redhead. “Regulus needs your help.” 

His son. Floated in front of him, each breath labored, and so pale. Orion shook his head, pushing back the rage. He needed to help his son. Then he could seek revenge. He placed a hand on his cheek, trying to ground himself. So cold. Orion wrapped his cloak around him, before gathering Regulus in his arms. 

“We need to get out of here.” The redhead reached out and grabbed his sleeve, tugging him forward. Orion caught sight of Sirius just staring at him. He looked as if he would collapse as soon as Dorea’s son let go.

Focus.

He needed to focus on the two of them first.

They stepped out of the chamber. The cold wind lashed around them. A tug on his robes, a moment later, they were gone. 

* * *

They stood in the middle of the wood. With only moonlight, he could make out the white paint of a cottage, surrounded by dozens of raised beds with numerous flora. Though it was blurry as if he couldn’t look at it straight on. Potter and Sirius hobbled towards the wooden front door.

“Andi!” Sirius shouted as Potter banged on the door. 

A light flickered on in the house.

“This better be an emergency,” Andromeda, for it must be her, opened the door. He was struck by how similar she and Bellatrix looked, only distinguished by Andromeda having brown hair where Bellatrix’s was raven black. “It’s one in the morning...” She had her wand raised, light shining from it, as she glanced over Sirius. Her expression froze, cold as she caught sight of him, “Uncle.”

“Andromeda.” Orion shifted Regulus in his grip. 

“Is he-” Andromeda inhaled sharply. Her fingers tighten around the wand. She took half a step forward. 

“He needs help.” Sirius swayed, voice hoarse, “And we need secrecy-” 

“Oh, that I can see. I take it that trouble isn’t going to follow you.”

“This wasn’t Death Eaters.”

Andromeda pushed the door open, “I’ll get Ted. You know where the guest room is, and you look like you are about to keel over yourself, cousin.” Andromeda gestured down the hall, “I’m expecting the full story. If this puts my child at risk...”

“It won’t.” Sirius interrupted.

“Then you are welcome here.” 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will also be Orion's POV.

**Author's Note:**

> I will also add Orion's POV in the future and will be mainly alternating between Regulus's and his POV.


End file.
